That one Story with Whirl and Cyclone that Goes Nowhere
by YourNeighborhoodAngstyEmoKid
Summary: Random short (fluff/lovehate?) chapters with Whirl and Cyclone I guess. These were for a friend and not serious in any way. Sorry to get your hopes up bbies.
1. Carmel POPcorn

Cyclonus POV

You slam the door open, damn it's good to be home. While taking in the glorious site of you awesome home you realise it's not so awesome as when you left this morning. It would seem Whirl has gotten home before you. It's not the guns hung up around the house that give it away, its the fricking heelies. He's bought a new pair...it's the worst elements of design all combined into one cluster of hell. Bright blue, glitter caked, with pinning neon orange rims...seriously, on shoes? You'r day just took a 90 degree turn from sheet (like metal haha) to candyland, and you fricking hate candy. Caramel gets stuck in your weird teeth it's freaking annoying everytime Whirl wants some carmeled popcorn. Seriously who the hell invented carmel popcorn? It's the most metal backwards thing.

You contemplate mentally complaining more when suddenly you hear Whirl in the kitchen, knocked everything over into his fan stomach, therefor anialating it. You hesitate breifly before stepping into the kicthen, then take the plunge. You're there, and then immediatly rocked like a hurricane because dear god why did he turn around. The guy has a fricking nuclear fan for a torso and he's blowing you away, literally. You don't find his fan attractive in the least...you'de never tell him though.

"Hey babe," He squeals in a high pitched voice. "Did you miss me? Think about me at work today at all?" You gotta admit you love the way his fan degrades all of his speech. Makes it easier to block out the crap, but when he dirty talks it's the best accent.

"Almost, but then I didn't give a metal sheet cause I have that stupid christmas photo of us in daimond turtleneck sweaters drilled into my work desk. Since SOMEONE thought it'd be romantic. So I could never _ever_ forget about us hun. No matter how hard I try." You drawl back to him in your deepest robot-texan accent, which is how you normally talk anyways. Not like you make an effort to sound MORE texan for him, really, you totally don't.

"Ah, well thats lovely." He replies, then turns around. Thank god, you were getting windburn on the remains of your missing horn. You can't tell if he's genuine, or on a whole nother level of sarcasm.

"Well...I'm gonna go Keep Up With the Kardashians then," and with that badass like you turn to leave. But then it hits you...why is Whirl of all people _cooking_?! Why is Whirl speaking with such _sass _today? He must be baking his favourite treat, You storm back in the kitchen.

Slamming you'r hands down on the back counter, "What do you think your friggin' doing!" You'r drawl is so deep you could throw Optimus's blood on it with some pepperoni and call it a deep pan pizza.

He turns around, with that shit eating grin of his. "Oh just baking, you'r favourite even, it's..." he slowly hisses the next part "_carmeled POPcorn",_ he actually made a pop sound affect. You're so done with him.


	2. Playbot Mag's n' and the Bicycle Man

Whirl's POV

You fasten up your heelies you skate with grace into the living room to enjoy some carmel popcorn with Cyclonidove (what a cute nickname you've given him). He looks filled with rage but you know that's just how he smiles. Currently his jaw is glued shut with caramel and popcorn kurnals, he must really like them to go threw that. Once you sit down you'r body fan sends you'r and Cyclones ridiculously large collection of Playbot magazines flying, one goes into the neighbors window. Welp Bumblebee has some entertainment now.

"Oh my fricking Alspark." You hear Cyclone sigh under his breathe, complete with facepalm as robot nudes rain down on him.

"Well sorry that my entire body is a fan." You reply, why can't he just accept the fact that you'r going to be the main focus of attention in everyroom. Cause you will blow everyone away with both you'r fan, and unmatched dancing skills.

"It'd help if _everything_ you did didn't result in fueling my hatred for transformer kind." He drawls back at you, a slight sizzle of his peturbance underlines it.

"Like what? I do everything for you." Why can't he appreciate all you do around here.

"You leave you'r Alspark awful freaking heelies everywhere so I can step on them and injure _my_ heels. All the furniture is constantly caked in glitter which is pointless since it's chrome and shines anyways without it. You'r weird obcession with Bicycle Jackson and spending all our bolts on his weird as advertisments for bondage that the world calls albums, and-" He stops, his white laser eyes have caught site with you'rs, he is afraid, no one insults Bicycle Jackson, or you'r love of glitter.

"Finish the last one." You growl out with all the voice degrading power of you'r fan.

"...And you'r repeated baking of carmel popcorn despite the fact you _know _I hate it. Both in flavour and texture." He says lastly at you.

"Anything else, bitchbot?" You throw back at him, ah yeah best comeback.

"Even though I don't know how it's supposed to taste...I'm pretty sure you burn it too." His voice fades out, you'r not having this. You storm off to the kitchen for more baking, confections never hurt anyone, accept him apparently.

You take all the caramel mix you have and start baking, pouring into a pan with little heart molds scattered around. Pure caramel bricks is what he gets, and he's gonna damn well eat 'em. Even you wouldn't wanna taste these badbots. The entire house begins to smell like caramel, it's the best scent because it means revenge, however it's also the worse because wow that's _way_ to much caramel.

Cyclonus' POV

Damnit, he's making more caramel popcorn for Prime sakes, well you'r not gonna eat it if thats what he thinks. You'r starting to feel this weird feeling though, it might be guilt...shit you think it's guilt. Ugh, you grunt off the couch and into the kitchen. Oh god...you see the hearts pan, you never thought he'd go _that_ far. You'r actually becoming terrified of his baking powers, he could crush an entire autobot child with his Thanksgiving ham.

Whirl's POV (wow, so soon?)

The caramel squares are burning all you'r senses, but that just means they're perfectly done. Suddenly you hear Cyclones step into the kitchen. Clearly, he wants a square.

"Oh I was wondering when you'de come for more of my glorious cooking." You say, the condescention and smugness scale is at 11 out of a possible 10 with this sentence.

"Um not really, Alspark no. I just came to say I'm a tiny bit sorry." Really, well that's new, there's no way he could be 100% legit with that.

"...For?" Stretching the r to further express you'r doubt in his actions.

"For insulting you'r glitter heelies and carmel popcorn, seriously though stop making it." He apologizes and complains in the same statement.

"Well...wait apologize for Bicycle Jackson too!" You snap back.

"Fine, sorry if I hurt you'r feelings with the truth that Bicycle J.'s music is less than subpar." He replys.

"How dare you." He is a gregous bot who was famous before his time, an inspiration to many.

"Oh I dare, just did. His musics about as pretty as you'r Sweet Bot and Hella Jeff poster." Following his retort he tilts you SB&HJ poster even more than it already was. It was the perfect tilt! Not to unorderly but shitty enough to get the deep political message across.

He did _not _just do that, oh hellllll no.


	3. Genericly Circular Occurences

Cyclonus' POV

Well going by the way you and your roomie left off yesterday, todays not lookin' too good. The SB & HJ posters still tilted, at like a 45 degree angle from what it should be, it's staring you in the face. You can't stop looking at the damn thing, the two characters stupid lemon faces are gawking at you. They know you were mean but damnit if it means Whirl'll organise his heelies then so be it. Its the last thing you and Whirl argued about before both storming off and going to bed in the most dramatic places you could think of. Instead of one of you sleeping in the bed and the other on the metalic chrome futon of peacemaking, (look every household has that object that most apologies or feelings jams take place by, be it the kitchen, a coffee maker, or the human corpse that somehow ended up in your backyard.) one slept in the yard under the self proclaimed acorn tree that suspiciously has yet to grow any acorns, and the other on the roof. To make matters more cliche and depressing it was raining. Eventually you got on your literal suspenders of pride (you sewed them all by yourself at summer botcamp when you were just a lil honda car) and stutted your shiny metal ass back inside the house. Then poured yourself a bowl of your favourite GENERIC CEREAL brand and turned on the Sunday cartoons.

Whirl's POV

You wake up to an odd feeling, it feels like only half of your body is there. For a moment you ponder death, typical most decepticons as a daily hobby. Then you start feeling less of your body weight, you relise this is because you're falling off the roof. With a large boom/thump your huge metal ass clashes with the ground, you stand up and regain your composure and elegance just fine but afterwards you feel a bassline of shame. Like one of those basslines that just keeps going and it's all like RNNNNNBNNNGRNBRNNNNN, like from that one PASWG song, you know the one ;). You fell into Bumblebee's yard, His lawn now has a large VERY destinct imprint of your ass, and his girlfriend saw the whole thing. Frick, well it'd be the proper thing to just apologise and pay the bill to fix his new asslawn...but then again you kinda don't wanna. Plus he might report it and then start a war between the autobots and decepticons. Then whenever anyone in a darkly lit room boldly asked how this all got so fricked up, then take a strong drag of their electronic-cigar, the answers gonna be "Whirl's huge ass destroyed his lawn, now hundreds have died."

You think strongly for a moment...you decide the most polite and best way to handle the situation to have you come out somewhere close to on top, is to flip her off and jump the fence. You fail miserably and destroy it leaving a large _circular_ whole in your wake, the bassline of shame inside you just grew 3 times in size and sound, cause it's a bassline. You know the one BNNNNNNNRNNBNRNNNNNBREWWWWNNNNDNNNNNN. So sugoi. Oh Alspark, you were thinking so hard about that EPIC BASSLINE that angel(/demon? what a twist ending) played, that you didn't realise she's following you. Crap the only female transformer in all paradox space in gonna kick your ass. Well you guess her foot would probably just get stuck in your body fan...but than thats a war betwixt autobots and decepticons darnit.

Cyclonus' POV

Right in the middle of your favourite show, My Large Hellhorse; Hatred is Science, you hear an enormous thud outside, oh wow haha Whirl probably fell off the roof. You mentally give yourself a hi-five and then keep watching your show.

Once your show finishes you put your _circular_ bowl of GENERIC CEREAL onto the livingroom table and go outside. You actually start to feel worried for Whirl, he might have run away with Bumblebee like old times. Back in training corps he was always being a little emobot, running off with little misunderstood and so disprivaledged Bumblebee, it pains you to realise THATS his epic reason for becoming a decepticon, no one understands him, lifes hard and they don't get it. Of course lifes hard, were made of steel, our actual living forms are freakin HARD all the time! Not sexually or anything though...sorta making robonudes obsolute...wait none of us wear clothes either...eh prolly some weird fetish shit Whirl picked up hanging out with Bumblebutt or something then.

Your thoughts are inturrupted _circularly_, once your not-so-_circular_ lazer eyes are directed to the _circular_ hole in the fence. THATS YOUR FENCE, you built that fence with your own two hands, your hands controlling your human slaves to put the boards in place and add nails to complete a fence.

but anyways...WHO COULD HAVE DONE THIS?!

Your red triangle optics are directed to Bumblebee stumbling out of his house, he's so wasted, but clearly not BUZZED (haha) enough to ignore the whole in the fence. Its technically his fence too since you both built fences, realised how dumb it'd be to have them spaced out, and simply glued them together, making a double thick fence. He's oddly calm about it, his visors down so you can't see his eyes, he probably did that so the artificial sky ball of light wouldn't burn his eyes. But..._why_ exactly is he so calm? oh my fricking alspark, could it have been? IT FREAKIN' HAD TO BE! He got drunk, bashed a hole in the fence and is waiting for your angry reaction, CLEARLY this is the case!

You respond with the anger of Starscream when his mother wouldn't let him bring a whole box of Yoddel Bars to school, but without the annoying screeching and shit. Seriously screw him with a star tipped screwdriver till he screams, then it'd be a star scream.

Your fist meets his face with a bash intense than the thickest heaviest bassline ever uttered, it would probably sound something like BNNNRNNDABNNNNN wait no more like BNNNRNNDNNDNNNNNNNNNNnNnnnnnnnnNZNnnnnnNNMNMNMN! yes perfect, you could jam to that sick beat all day.

Bumbleass is out cold, when suddenly oh look theres Whir- he fricking slaps you like the angriest of cats. The paw thing they do when they don't mean to hurt you but they want you to stop doing whatever the hell your doing, most likely to feed them. Except you don't think Whirl's hungry with the way his face looks right now. Panicked as a singular geese thats lost its flock.


	4. Plot Thickens with 12 Katanananananana's

Whirl POV

Cyclonus was so pissed about your fence breaking he just threw your SB&HJ poster out of the window. Now you can't keep talking about how great it is every _chapt_- you meant day...every_day_. Bumbleebee's angry girlfriend is outside kicking the metal sheet out of your door, good thing all your furniture is huge for your fanass so it makes for a strong barricade. Cyclonus removes his Suspenders of Pride shortly after the barricade is done. Atleast he doesn't take pride in punching out a bot who could barely stumble 2 feet before falling down again.

"I can't even Whirl, our house isn't even near the fence! I have no idea how you managed to fall so far. Both literally and metaphorically, cause this is just sad." he states dramatically, he should be used to this crap like really.

"Well I'm not the one who thought punching out our buddy from camp when we were lilbots was the best course of action. Why would he break his own fence Cyc-ey?! What possible reason!" You respond in mock outrage, even though it's mock you are still upset about this.

"Just, I don't know! Okay I really love that fence and I had to punch somebotty, and he was there." After finishing his sentence 3 long steel blades slice threw the crease of the door, Bumblebee's Angry Girlfriend is really...angry now.

You guys really need a solution for this like right now, she's begun to jam her head threw the door. Slipping all 6 out of her 12, 6ft katana blades threw the door. You guys are so screwed, as predicted by everybot, including the ones reading thi-...ONLY IF THIS WERE LIKE WRITTEN SOMEWHERE, which it isn't. Cause self referencial 4th wall breaking comedy is the fricking worst, so unoriginal and just...tired. No one would stupe that low nowadays.

During your deep thoughts about the universe and whether or not you're even real Bumblebee's Angry Girlfriend jams her foot threw the door and pulls back immediatly breaking her foot and the door off of their bolting. "HOLY FRICKIN MEGATRON PANTIES-" Cyclonus shouts and she goes for him first naturally. You decide to half-hide in a nearby closet.(halfhiding is a term you coined for hiding behind things while your fan body makes the other entire half of you in plane sight) You place your head on the visable half of your halfhiding stance and are immediately greeted with the sight of scratching at Cyclonus' face. As "girly" and weak as that sounds it's actually very mortifying, you'de go to help him but your stunned by the true power possessed by the only female transformer you've ever seen.

As she stabs 6 blades from one hand, threw Cyclonus' chest, the way her deep scarlet and black paint shimmers, hints of her enemies lifeblood coats the metal boots infused to her body. Occasionally you can see the deep hatred in her eyes, oh how many bots she's massacred no one knows, but we can all guess at what it could be, 9000? Over 9000?

The hostpital trip is gonna be a long and interesting discussion about why your just standing here while your romantic interest is violently shredded to bits. You guess you and Cycledove can stop fighting though cause really, who's gonna bitch to a guy missing half his face? She rips off his helmet, slams 10 of her blades into his metal skull, oh shit now your worried she might be going for the kill. One episode of My Large Hellhorse said that the head was pretty important to living and stuff, sucks you missed the rest. Your sudden concern makes you run from the closet in her general vacinity, as she slides her other thumb like katanas threw the sides of his cranium you body slam her. You fan immediatly goes batsheet crazy and her katanas respond in kind, fan and katana blades alike are meshing with eachother and chipping off resulting in terrifying sounds reminiscent of chalkboard scratching. The only thing your optical senses have adjusted well enough to see is her deep golden eyes blazing with maximum furiosity and confusion.

Cyclonus' POV

What in the holy Prime is going on anymore, You just got jumped by the only female transformer you've ever even heard of and you didn't win. Atleast your pretty sure you aren't, examining your chest and missing foot reassures you, yep you've lost whatever this is. Wait why is your foot missing? She...she's wearing your foot, the sick bitchbot, it's horrifically ducktaped on and everything, a mixture of both your shitty lifebloods coloring the tape a bright yellow and magenta. It's not pink it's _magenta_, very different things!

Shifting your gaze to your left you're met with the sight of...you don't even know. A horrific mix of steel jamming into fanbody is definitely not something your CPU can comprehend right now. Are...are they doing it? Oh yeah wait till crazy bot takes town Cyclone to pull a move on her, transformers don't even have genitals, it's just crazy steel mashing. Whirl always seemed like a weird kinky fricker though. Then you realise they're just fighting...really badly. The only reason Whirl isn't dead yet is because a majority of 's blades are stuck in his rotor, as he starscreeches on the floor.

Your so done with this entire thing, it can't possibly be going anywhere you like. The loss of lifeblood from your missing foot is starting to get to you though, your feeling a bit tired so you want to sleep, your mind lacks the coherency to tell you how bad of an idea that is, so you do.


	5. Stable neigh Condition in the Sexyward

Cyclonus' POV

You wake up in a new room, it smells like stale bread and plastic...oh no, Bumblebee must have tricked you into getting wasted last night. Another glance, oh nevermind it's much better, your in a hostpital. Your first thoughts are where the hell is Whirl? To the left of your bed, a wall of chairs...yet no ones in them like the movies. Well, you guess it makes sense, no matter who it was, could someone really sit in a chair wasting hours for their pal without getting robbed or hungry? No, hell no. You didn't for your mum and you know Whirl can't for you.

Whirl's POV

During a particularly bizznasty intense batch of macaroni making the phone rings, all your friends have blocked you number so you can't imagine them calling. Must be the hostpital, you pick up the phone and on impulse yell "WE DONT WANT TO SUBSCRIBE TO YOUR ROBOGRAPHY!" wait and then a small and terrified voice greets "U-umm is t-this the residence of Whirl?".

"Yar frickin' right it is! Now are you selling robography?" You inquire, rather loudly, back.

"Uh...," you hear rustling of papers "No I don't think we do...thats surpising actually. You'de think a hostpital would be filled with the stuff, or atleast some lap robots. The patients must be bored to death, this is terrible!" he responds.

"Your point is valid, now endorse it. When I go to check up on my buddy he better be darn well entertained! Good day to you madame!" Your serious, your gonna flip a bitchbot if there are no...bitchbots.

"Good day to you too...hey, I'm a gu-" No time, you hang up on her...er him, woops.

Cyclonus' POV

By the time Whirl arrives your in much more pain than you arrived in. There's freaking lap bots grinding on everything, destroying the machines and pouring medi-chips on themselves. It doesn't help that two of them keep giggling and slapping you with hardcore robography mags, seriously those are so thick it hurts...hehe thats what she said.

As Whirl steps threw the door he is immediately crushed by a blur of lap bot ass.

"Oh man, they really did step this place up! Puttin' our taxdollars to good use here." Why is that the first response he has to visiting you here.

"Yes...despite your pure jackassery I see you did not excape the fight unscathed either hmm Whirl?" You greet smugly, he has a giant cast around half his fan mid-section.

"Pfft, it's nothing. Did you see the way she violently gouged at your freakin' skull though? It was so just magnificent," you give him an awfully grim frown, he changes his tone "I mean it would've been much better if she wasn't totally beating the metal sheet outta you, bro."

"Yeah, no sheet. Well whaddya bring me?" You ask, swiping the robography mags from those stupids lap bots grinding on you.

"...what? I brought nothing, not for you anyways. I DID bring this nutribrain bar, they claim it to be whole human but I'm pretty sure it's mostly preservatives and other substitutes. They outta shut down the factory, so unhealthy." He retorts. You wouldn't be so mad but he's eating the nutribrain bar as you two speak...and none of it's reaching his mouth.

"Only you could screw something so easy, up so badly. Whirl, it's like the golden rule that when the guy in the movies friends show up they have a sheet metal metric ton of flowers or something preferably less gay for them." How does he not know this, it's basic hostpital ethic.

"Oh...well skipped the memo, and movies lie bruh." You immediatly throw the robography mags at him, effectively knocking the nutribrain bar out of his hands and then...OH DEAR ALSPARK NO.

The "nutricious" health snack falls into his half jutting fan, it sends a blur of supposed human brain goo everywhere. You wanna blame Whirl for this, you really do, so you do.

"Damnit Whirl! My scanners show this is over 9000% your fault!... you idiot"

"How did you even calculate that?! My scanner only goes up to 9." He says, while loosing his actual sheet, he's literally crying over the remains of the nutribrain wrapper.

"I mutiplied everything by 1000, thought it'd bring more emphasis to how much you screwed up." Bigger picutre, bigger numbers, bigger emphasis. Logic checks out. Cha-ching-beep beep error, damnit seriously? My metaphorical cash register broke, ugh whatever this joke sucks anyway.

Whirl's POV

"Look I'm sorry I didn't bring you anything, really man. We all missed you. Really!" You say in a desperate attempt to make up for the fact that once you got the call for visiting you waited and finished your macaroni after promptly hanging up on that skankbot of a woman.

"What do you mean by 'we'?! All out neighbors hate us, because you wouldn't stop calling them!" He has a point, definitely explains why they randomly blocked your number.

"I mean we...us...the spectators dear Cyclonus." Of course you mean YOU, last night in a weird dream you had you realised that rooms had more than 3 walls, and when you turned around the puppeteers were all staring, errily grinning at you. Many of them started lightly whispering for you to pose certain ways, kiss certain bots. Some showed you...horrific pictures depicting you and other robots engaging in...activites. But then you woke up. If Cyclonus knows about this then they are, infact, real. The public must be warned.

"I-...Whirl stahp, this is seriously too much. You're not allowed to go mentally ill while I'm receiving treatment and FOR PRIMES SAKE WILL SOMEONE BEAT THESE LAP BOTS TO DEATH!" The spectators are not real. You'de be disappointed but you guess you can confirm with the decepticon military that it was a decipticon mistake to decipticon call them. He looked scared until the lap bot dressed as a nurse showed up...oh no that...that was an actual nurse.

"Okay Whirl, you didn't see that. It was a lap bot okay. I didn't slap her because she was gonna make me eat MAINSTREAM GENERIC BRAND CEREAL. Kay?"

"Kay." You figure if you respond any other way your getting slapped next.

"Also I'm gonna need you to drag the body out for me." He says.

"Wait, what...she's not dead though. There's clearly a pulse on her arms lifeblood meter."

"I...well whatever she's gonna wake up soon right? So get the living evidence out...and that prime forbidden MAINSTREAM GENERIC BRAND CEREAL." Pretty bold victim to be just ordering you around like this.

Eventually you realize that the day will just freeze, and time will cease to move on. Unless you perform the action of moving the body, therefor moving this 'plot' thing your mind just made up along aswell.


	6. Hot Vending Machine Cold-cuts

Cyclonus' POV

Your standing at the door, finally ready to leave this heavenly place filled to the brim with MAINSTREAM BRAND GENERIC CEREAL goodness. Whirl's at the counter desk slowly loosing braincells as he tries to fill out the paperwork that will do legal justice to how much of an ass he is. If not for your current occupation, you too would join the 3 staff trying to aid him in simply filling out his Mmail (Megatron mail...It's almost as bad as Google Plus). But once again you are occupied with the oddly entrancing stare of the vending machine across the street. Normally you'd have nothing to do with those types of robots, but damn if she ( or he, how the hell could you tell the gender of a rectangle) isn't just tearing up that sidewalk with their stilted and unmoving dance moves. You decide to ditch Whirl for now, pretty sure your all getting sick of his sheet, _all of you_. You smash injured leg first through the glass, failing to operate those stupid tiny turn doors correctly, is this really where our freakin' tax dollars are going? Rotating doors? Then you greet the machine. Him/her, well you're just gonna say _it_, not to objectify but it's easier, and you don't mean that _it's easier_.

Whirl's POV

Huh, a short thought to stop existing temporarily for this "narrative" crossed your mind a second ago but it 'twas fleeting. So you continue to operate as normal, maybe your supernatural and have these crazy powers. That or maybe you can shoot lasers and chainsaw anything in half like every other stupid robot, but the difference is your insane. You don't wanna ponder this any longer. Those stupid forms rattled your circuits to hell and back, what the fricks a "form of identification" some bull_carp_ word probably, seemed _fishy_. Stepping through the shattered remains of a once majestic turntable door definitely worth our taxes, seriously it was beautiful, you see Cyclonus.

"HEY CYCLONUS!" you shout, he must not have heard you.

"HEY, HEY LISTEN, HEY, LI- CYCLONUS I MEAN, HEY LISTEN!" This time he heard, or at least stopped ignoring you. He responds with a cheerful middle finger and turns back to the vending machine he's chatting with.

Well he just got outta the hospital so you decide to let him have some fun. Though you don't like the idea of vending machine, day in day out, being used by everyone, taking your money, sometimes they don't even fill their end of the bargain so you gotta kick em. Too rough n' risky for your liking.

You stroll down to the local sandwich joint, yep still there, all the teens smokin' those darn sandwiches. They're too young for this you think, but it can't be helped now.

You decided to change you opinion and hi-jack all their sandwiches, many of your neighborhood angsty emo kids were in that group and will definitely seek revenge later. Luckily you have an out, the Local 70's Too Cool for Koolaid Sandwich Diner, where "_An abnormal amount of sandwiches is our policy, and is perfectly acceptable here and only here!" _is their very appropriate motto. Making a mad dash inside with your sandwiches hoping that your best bot bro (Aside from Cycle-wycle) is in. Your then accosted by the manager, Brainstorm, guh not this asshole.

Swerve's POV (AH RIGHT AW YEAH, NO, PLEASE, KEEP APPLAUDING. IT'S APPRECIATED)

(All uses of bro will be in italics, as well as any groovin' words I make up. It's your job to figure out their meanings. ' and ' mean the characters are trying to talk as cool as Swerve btw)

After slicing up some major _grilleds_ , you slap on the neccisary _condimentals_ and get _zapperzippin'_ to the _front lines_ baby. Parkouring your way out into the _hip stage_, you can finally chillax with your fellow robrots. Just then you spot funky ol' Chickennuggetstorm all up and in your pals grill and _non grills_, ah man you gotta help a ro_bro_ther out.

"Eyyyy Wizardgizzard, buddy. Whats crackin'? Or could something be crackalackin'?" You shout.

"Oh thank Prime you're here, Brainstorm's got some uh 'beef' with me bro." He replies. YOU KNEW IT.

"Yo _Bro_endardo Daveggie, why are you slamming beef in this _bro_'s direction without offerin' a vegan alternative?"

"Oh hello dearest Swerve, well I am just alerting him to my concerns for his amount of sandwich _delectables_, or lack thereof sandwiches. He only possesses 12 delicious 'miracle loaf combos' when we have an established 14 minimum. No one with less than 14 sandwiches is to even enter our establishment, let alone look in the window of this house of rapture." Okay no, this isn't your scene here. Gotta do a switch up with this bitch pup.

"Dude, why can't a _bro_ just _wiggledig_ it up to this haven without gettin' _snack jacked_?"

"I am simply enforcing the rules established by the historical 'grain gods, _bro_', who fortold that this holy 'loaf shack' can only exist if we all abide by this. We must all contribute an equal 14 sandwiches to the pile when we come in if we wish to enter 'ro_bro_heavens' holy gates, isn't that what this places existence was funded upon-"

"-nah man, your not seein' the corndog picture here. The reason for our being was to exist to_bro_gther, in har_bro_ny," You grab to fresh made sandwiches and hand them to Whirlwizard "now you are granted permission to this ever holy _Wheat Treat Sanctuary_." You've shown him the light.

Whirlwind castes you a thoughtful expression and you guide him over to _Slamdunktion Junktion _and toss his now 14 sandwiches in. Brainstorm just looks confused as usual in his _golfdunk vestie_ and glittered _drezz pants _and gives up, walking away defeated. A _bro_ has fallen, for his beef had been cut just a tad too thick and unfortunately for him, the _bro_bot who's veggie _love loaf smackdibbs _were cold-cut to the crisp, is the one who would rise.

(Also DID YOU SEE DID YOU SEE? I MADE THE EASIEST REFERANCE LAST, BROBOT HAHA I CAN BE A LAZY LIL SHEET TOO. That is also a reference to my awful just...awful homestuck transformers crossover, please check it out as well. I'm not afraid of advertising my own sheet since for you it's literally two clicks away. Like really? You can spare 10 seconds.)


End file.
